The Amazing Bouncing Ferret
by Sare Liz
Summary: In the midst of a maelstrom of craziness at Hogwarts, what does it look like with Hermione & Viktor in their little world, population 2? HG/VK
1. The Amazing Bouncing Ferret

**Title**: The Amazing Bouncing Ferret  
**Author**: Sare Liz  
**Continuity**: Harry Potter Universe, Viktor/Hermione  
**Series: **The Amazing Bouncing Ferret  
**Prompt**: (01) Pureblood  
**Rating**: K  
**Disclaimer**: Prompt from Potterverse 100. Characters the property of JKR and associated persons and corporations.  
**Author's Notes**: This scene occurs in the first weeks of December, during year four, just after the first trial in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Not continuous with _**Firebolt Ring, **_but could be continuous with Prompt 10, Quills_._

--

Pureblood. It left the same taste in his mouth as Communism. How to explain it to her, though? And in English – he had no luxury of speaking Bulgarian or Russian or even German, but it had to be an explanation in the accursed _English_ language?

Viktor looked at her standing in front of the towering bookcases with one hand on her hip as she waited for his response. It was unfortunate, really, that the other young man from Slytherin had to walk by and make his unhelpful comments just as Viktor had finally marshaled his courage to say hello to the lovely, and now rather irritated, young witch before him.

_"I'd be careful if I were you, Viktor. Granger there is the finest example Hogwarts has to offer of its inclusive admissions policy. She's the farthest from Pureblood you can be. Best not to get to close. You might get all… muddy."_

The annoying child fell far in Viktor's esteem, though as he spoke quickly and snidely it was hard to understand some of his words and the nuances of his phrases. Still, the feeling behind the so-called warning was quite clear.

Before he could properly align his thoughts and find something approximating the right words, she spoke. Her annoyance was also clear.

"Perhaps you wish to heed the words of ferret?"

Viktor's eyes darted around as he tried to figure out what on earth she was saying. "Vot is vord, _ferret_?" he finally settled on, looking at her tentatively.

"Oh," she said, warming slightly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Him. Malfoy was transfigured into a ferret by Professor Moody the other day. A ferret, it's… a really small fuzzy animal, rather like a rat."

A grin broke out on Viktor's face as he laughed silently. A professor did that? He'd thought it was just a rumor. "So, outside look like inside, for Malfoy. For a little vhile."

Hermione smiled a bit at that. "Yes," she murmured, perhaps as a concession to their bibliophilic location. "He did get a chance to let his inner rodent out." She paused and gave him what certainly felt like a very assessing gaze. "You don't care much about the pureblood thing, do you?"

"No," he replied emphatically. "Is stupid. And, bad for introduction." He sighed and glared down at the book in his hands, just for a moment. "I vos going to introduce myself before interruption," Viktor said slowly and haltingly, but he thought, in a very grammatically correct manner.

"Oh," was her small, surprised reply.

Viktor looked up to see a much better look on her face than he could have wished for. Her eyes were wide and she looked tentatively… hopeful. At least, he thought that maybe she looked that way.

"My name is Viktor Krum," he said quietly. "And you are?"

"Hermione Granger," she said, and stuck out her hand. Viktor straightened up and shifted his book to his left hand. He took her offered one, but not to shake, of course. He bowed over it.

"Is very nice to meet you, Hermeon. Vhere are you from?"

Suddenly she looked everywhere but at him. "Oh, erm, my parents live just outside London." Her voice now was such a different thing then when she had been so angry. Gone was the harsh scathing tone, challenging him, daring him to say something to anger her further. Present was a quiet, breathy, and still wide-eyed version, that was now looking at him again. "And you – You're from Bulgaria, aren't you?"

"Yes. I live vith parents in a town called Vratsa."

"Called what?"

Viktor repeated the name of his town slowly and distinctly.

"Vratsa," Hermione said, almost to herself. "It's a lovely name. Where is it?"

"Em, Vratsa is in north and vest of country. Is nearby to mountains."

"Yes, London's pretty flat. No mountains."

There was not too much silence before she grabbed the book that had brought her to the remote shelf they were standing in front of and held it to her chest. "Well, it was nice to meet you. I'll see you later, I guess."

"I vould like that."

"Bye," she said shortly, just before she turned around. For all the world it looked like she was about to bolt – perhaps not strengthening Viktor's sense of self after the encounter – but she paused at the last possible moment. "Oh, and… Congratulations. On being selected to the tournament, I mean. And besting the dragon. I can't cheer for you, of course," she said, her eyes laughing, "but I hope you do well."

END.


	2. Independent Project

**Title:** Independent Projects  
**Author:** Sare Liz  
**Claim:** Viktor/Hermione  
**Prompt:** (02) Classes  
**Series:** Continuous with what was done in "The Amazing Bouncing Ferret"  
**Disclaimer:** Prompt from Potterverse 100. Characters the property of JKR and associated persons and corporations.

--

He was in the library an awful lot, and nearly always was surrounded by stacks of books. Sometimes it was just the two of them there, though at some point his fan club tended to wander in and then back out again at least once.

Hermione tried not to stare at him, and was mostly successful, but today she was having a rather hard time of it. The weather had really only just turned cold, and it always took her body a bit of time to adjust to it properly. Today she just couldn't get warm. And she couldn't really concentrate on her Arithmancy tables, though things had started to get really interesting in that class.

He was always here after dinner, she mused. Which is to say that she herself was nearly always here after dinner, and she'd never noticed him to be elsewhere. Her mind flitted over his presence, thinking briefly of his celebrity status and how similar it was to how the Creeveys treated Harry, and how the whole school seemed to be on the Potter Stinks bandwagon just now, and what a git Ron was being, but how wonderful Ginny was, and how horrible it was to just adore someone who didn't know that you existed, or at least, in that way…

But then Viktor Krum looked up. Hermione had been staring, but her mind was elsewhere. She didn't register that he now met her gaze until several moments into it. Startled, she looked away, her eyes darting around like her thoughts had, only to flit back to check – he was still looking at her. She looked away again, but back almost instantly, and held his gaze this time, at least for a tiny space. Hermione quirked her lips in a bit of a smile and was stunned to see how his face transformed when he smiled. Merlin, the boy was beautiful when he smiled.

_This must be what people mean when they say something took their breath away_, she thought. She'd previously ridiculed the notion, but Hermione now had empirical data. It took her a moment to figure out what she actually wanted out of this breath-taking experience, but in the end she decided that she'd rather like to talk with him again. Not that it would occur directly under Madam Pince's nose, of course. They'd have to be a bit sneakier than that.

Hermione smiled a tiny bit wider at Viktor and looked meaningfully to the rows of bookshelves off to her right, topping off her bit of non-verbal communication with the quirk of a single eyebrow. Would he get it? She pushed back her chair, still looking at him, and finally broke eye contact to wander into those bookshelves. Going to the end of a row, Hermione grabbed a book at random and sat on the low desk that was attached to the shelves. _The Dangers of Anthropomorphizing Existential Concepts – _it could prove rather interesting, even if Viktor didn't get the hint. Hermione looked up to verify the section she was in. Muggle Studies. That's what she'd thought. Flipping through the index of chapters Hermione made a mental note to check this one out. She started in on the first page of chapter one, _A Survey of Anthropomorphic Personifications Throughout History, _but before she could get past the first paragraph she heard a soft step coming up from behind.

She shifted her head slightly so she could see at least the feet and legs of whomever was near as they walked by, but when said feet and legs neared, encased in combat boots and brown wool respectively, they stopped. There was no walking by for these feet and legs, apparently. Hermione peered up, momentarily uncertain. She had wanted to talk to Viktor, so she'd taken the appropriate steps to do so, but now that she had him here to talk to, she wasn't sure she actually could. This sort of thing didn't happen when she wanted to speak with any of the other boys…

"Hi," was the only thing that came to mind.

"May I join you?" He was so courteous. Why couldn't Ron be like this? In fact, why couldn't any of the boys be like this? Seamus wasn't bad looking, neither was Dean, but neither of them had what one might term _manners_. Viktor pulled up a chair when she nodded. "Alvays it is making me think, that," he said, gesturing with his hand toward her.

Hermione blinked at him. "The book?" she queried, holding up the spine of her newfound treasure.

"No," he responded, looking at her. "Vot you were doing. I do not know vord. Vhen you say 'yes' vit no vords."

"Oh! You mean when I was nodding my head? Like this?" Hermione asked, nodding again.

"Yes," Viktor said, and Hermione noted that he did not nod his head. In fact he was very, very still. It was an odd thing to notice, but since she was fidgeting with the cover of the book and had the intense desire to smooth her skirt and brush her hair back, she noticed that he seemed so calm, comparatively speaking. "In my country, is other vay." Viktor nodded slightly, saying, "mean _no_." And then he shook his head, "mean _yes_. But only in Bulgaria."

"How interesting," Hermione said, sitting forward slightly with her elbows on her knees. "But surely not everyone from Durmstrang is from Bulgaria? I mean…" she trailed off, not quite sure how to ask her question tactfully.

"No, is true. From all Eastern Europe, not only Bulgaria." Viktor paused, seeming to look for the words he wanted. "But… at school ve not answering that vay. Our teachers get angry if they see us doing, even out of classroom."

"Oh!" Hermione responded, shifting the book in her lap slightly. "So, at school they sort of train you not to do it at all, but you're still used to _seeing_ people respond… Well, respond a different way than they do here."

"Yes. Exactly, yes." Viktor smiled again at her and Hermione would be embarrassed to later report to Ginny that it was a bit difficult to think when Viktor smiled at her like that.

"So, um, what's your delegation doing for classes now that you're here?"

Viktor gave her a blank look.

"I mean," she began to rephrase, "Do you have classes here in the castle, or are your classes on your ship…"

"Ship."

"Oh. What are you studying? Is it just your headmaster who teaches you?"

Viktor collected his thoughts for a moment. "Two professors, our headmaster, and vone who… is helping him. Ve learn spells, and potions, and dark arts, and combat, and history, and creatures and plants, and… each student has two big… um, I do not know vord. Ve read and write, and we are having to do something about our learning, but ve do this alone."

"Oh, you mean, like an independent project?"

"I do not know vords you use."

"Independent is an adjective that means alone, without aid. Project is a noun that means…" Hermione trailed off, trying to figure out a good way to put it. "Well, a project could really be anything, but it's something that you create, or do. It's a very general word."

"Independent project. Yes. Yes, I like that. Ve all have two. Vone of mine is being in Tournament. Other is new; I learn how to be _animagus_." Viktor said the Latin word with such a thick accent that Hermione realized it must have been the same in his own language. Still, it took her brain just a half second longer than normal to puzzle out what he'd actually said. And then she did.

Hermione's mouth gaped slightly.

"That's fascinating!" she exclaimed in a quiet whisper.

It may be possible that Madam Pince had a soft spot in her heart for Hermione, but it was more likely that the couple was just quiet and had gone unnoticed by the librarian as they discussed the small amount of progress Viktor had made in his research thus far. Both were leaning toward each other, Hermione looking slightly down from her perch, Viktor looking slightly up from his chair, and both were blocking the aisle. It wasn't until a younger student needed to pass them (while looking breathlessly at Viktor – something Hermione had slightly more compassion for just now) that they found themselves booted from the cozy world that was all their own, population two.

--

...the series continues...


	3. The Gift of Sight

**Title:** The Gift of Sight  
**Author:** Sare Liz  
**Claim:** Viktor/Hermione  
**Prompt:** Spells  
**Series:** Continuous with what was begun in "The Amazing Bouncing Ferret"  
**Disclaimer:** Characters belong to JKR and Associates. Prompts are from Potterverse100.  
**Notes:** This is way more fun that I thought it was going to be.

--

His class gathered outside as it usually did, despite what weather might be occurring around them. Near the forest and within sight distance of the gamekeeper's hut and oversized Beauxbatons carriage the twelve students and two teachers came together in a circle. This afternoon was combat practice. Ninety minutes of thaumical aggression and ninety minutes of physical aggression.

Karkaroff barked off a brief lecture on the theory behind the spells that they would be using while they dueled, but Viktor was already familiar with the day's lesson. He had done research on disabling the senses through spell casting in preparation for the first trial. He kept half an ear open in case Karkaroff mentioned something new, but let his eyes wander just slightly, gazing over toward the castle. There was a small group of people coming down, and it seemed that they were headed straight for Viktor's class. That probably wasn't so, but what other business would they have? Were they going into the forest? Unlikely. They weren't from Beauxbatons, and what group of students would visit the gamekeeper when not for a class?

Forming lines with plenty of distance between pairs, Viktor made sure to keep a spot looking out toward the castle, with his back to the forest. He had an idle curiosity as to the destination of this still unknown pod of Hogwarts students, and he wanted his curiosity satisfied.

Viktor's attention was drawn back to class once more as the young assistant teacher briefly explained the curative spell that reversed the damage of each of the original curses. Each student who managed to get a successful curse through the defenses of his partner would then have to heal the inflicted wounds. Viktor murmured the words to cure the accursed blindness, deafness, dumbness and leprosy. Though the curses all had separate origins and nuances, the cures were all in the same family with very similar words. Satisfied with his progress ahead of the class, Viktor let his attention wander again, and the next time that the young Bulgarian looked up, it was right into the eyes of Hermione.

He would later muse that it must have been her and her friends when they were still far off, on their way to see the gamekeeper after all. That would be something they could talk about. Did she have classes with that exceptionally large wizard? Was she engaged in some extracurricular project involving magical creatures?

He would later wonder at her expression, trying to puzzle through what it might mean, if it meant anything at all. She wasn't smiling, but he certainly had been the subject of her attention long before he realized it. Her eyes had been very wide, he thought, and he was vaguely aware of her friends behind her, talking, laughing perhaps.

He would later think a great number of things, some of them unhelpful, but not at the moment. At the moment, Viktor was caught up in her gaze. She was so pretty, so interesting, he liked her so much, and he was seeing her unexpectedly, miraculously in the middle of the day. He was completely transfixed by the very sight of her, his mind blissfully blank.

It was ironic then, that the curse he never saw coming -- once Karkaroff had quietly declared the first round of dueling open -- was the _Conjunctivitis Curse_. He was blinded immediately and had such mind numbing pain in his eyes that he crumpled to the ground, clutching his head.

Vlad had to pry his hands away to affect his cure and the pain receded, but slowly. When Viktor finally opened his bleary, bloody eyes and glared at his partner, Vlad only smirked.

"_Next time," _Vlad murmured to him in Russian, _"Stop flirting long enough to duel."_

Viktor punched him in the shoulder. Vlad helped him up anyway.

--

...the series continues...


	4. Sheep in Wolves' Clothing

**Title**: Sheep in Wolves' Clothing  
**Author**: Sare Liz  
**Claim**: Viktor/Hermione  
**Prompt**: (04) Clothes  
**Series**: The Amazing Bouncing Ferret  
**Disclaimer**: Characters to JKR. Prompt to Potterverse 100

--

The boys wouldn't notice of course. Ron was too busy being offended. Harry was too busy being hounded and vilified. And even if they weren't otherwise occupied, chances are they wouldn't notice and they certainly wouldn't be able to put two and two together and reach the appropriate sum of four. Ginny noticed, though, and she could add perfectly.

Hermione went, as a matter of habit, straight from the dinner table to the library table. As such, if she didn't want to end up in her uniform for the entirety of a long day, and so long as she didn't have detention later, she changed for dinner. In this she was not alone. The student population of Hogwarts came to dinner in all states of array – if they had a late class, the ties might even still be on, but otherwise jeans and trendy shirts were the way to go. It was a veritable fashion show; one that Hermione and Ginny had scorned and mocked for the last few years. They were among the girls who wanted to look nice, but refused to cater to the whims of fashion fancy. They would wear their jeans and they would wear their shirts and to hell with fashion.

What Ginny had noticed, and what the boys never would, was the _particular_ jeans and shirt set that Hermione had chosen for the evening, as she walked through the Gryffindor Common Room, intent on food.

The two had already had several conversations about jeans – what was comfortable, what was fashionable, and what was just too much. At the Quidditch Cup they had laughed over some of the clothes that Hermione's mum had given to her for an early birthday gift. There were jeans that were a shade too tight and too low for Hermione's emotional comfort, as well as several shirts with very reasonable necklines, but that accounted for a body that was seemingly several inches smaller in diameter than Hermione herself was.

And tonight, that was precisely what she was wearing.

Ginny gave her an incredulous look, but instantly jumped up from her group of friends to join Hermione as she ducked out of the portrait hole.

"There something you want to tell me?" Ginny asked as they got to a clear section of corridor.

"Whatever do you mean?" Hermione asked, feigning innocence until the last, but belying it all by plucking at her form-fitting top.

"Look, if you're going to wear the shirt, you need to stop tugging on the hem. Stand up straight, shoulders back – yes, your breasts show quite well, but that's the point," Ginny said quietly, and Hermione was reminded of Mrs. Weasley. Ginny was younger and hipper, but definitely a version of the same.

Hermione swallowed harshly and followed her advice. It wasn't a big deal. That's what she kept saying, over and over. People dress like this all the time, and just because she hadn't ever done so before didn't mean she'd make a stir. At least, she wouldn't make a stir with most people. Now, if only she could make a bit of a stir with one particular someone…

"So who is it?" When Hermione was silent, Ginny continued softly, hopping over a trick stair. "You don't want to hear the names I would guess, so you might as well just tell me now."

Hermione looked over at her and thought for a moment before speaking. "You need to promise you won't breathe a word of this."

Ginny leveled a gaze at her that was a bit creepy. "There are lots of things I never say, Hermione. We'll add yours to the stack."

Still, it took her a moment. "Viktor Krum."

Ginny gave her an incredulous look, screwing up her face in disbelief. "Viktor Krum?" she queried softly. "Seriously? I would have thought he was more Ron's type than yours."

Hermione sniggered, her shoulders shaking as they entered into the Great Hall.

"So, he actually talks to you, then? I heard he doesn't talk to anyone-- No!" Ginny said sharply as Hermione went to her customary side of the table. Grabbing her wrist, Ginny pulled her over. "You've got to sit on this side, silly – with me."

It took Hermione a minute to catch on. From this side of the table she could see the Slytherins, which wasn't something she attempted at dinner, having already had quite enough of them throughout the day. Of course, it wasn't only the Slytherins there now. When she looked up, he had already found her, and was watching as she walked down the length of the table and sat with her friend.

"See?" Ginny said as she helped herself to a jacket potato.

"I see," Hermione responded, watching him watch her for just a moment longer before pulling her eyes away and to her dinner.

"So, he actually talks to you?" Ginny was busy cutting her food into bite-sized pieces, but she didn't let this deter her questioning in the least.

Hermione felt very awkward at this line of inquiry. It wasn't that big of a deal, or at least it probably wasn't. Of course, she rather wanted it to be, which was why she had put on these entirely ridiculous clothes, but chances are he wouldn't even notice.

Of course, he was looking at her when she came in. This wasn't the first time they had just sort of… looked at each other, occasionally to his detriment. And there was the odd encounter in the library, and that one very purposeful encounter in the library. "It's more like we talk to each other," Hermione responded, determined to limit potential objectification. "But yes, he speaks."

"What's he like?"

Hermione melted into a grin at one particular memory, and couldn't help glancing up at him. He was talking to one of the other boys from Durmstrang, who sat next to him. "He, um…." She trailed off, unable to finish her thought before she turned back to Ginny. "He's got this really amazing smile. It's hard to think when he smiles at me." She looked down into her roast beef and blushed.

"He smiles?" Ginny whispered, delightedly aghast. "He smiles _at you? _That's wicked, Hermione! He must really like you. You know he doesn't smile for anybody else. He certainly didn't smile up there in that box," she said, obliquely referencing the first time they'd all met – sort of – at the Quidditch World Cup.

"Well, of course not, I mean, not _then._ He'd just lost, and he –" she broke off and continued in a much quieter voice. "He broke his nose, didn't he? Entitled to be a bit grumpy, I should say."

Ginny had a huge grin on her face. "All I'm saying is that he smiled at _you._ _You,_ Hermione Jane Granger, he smiled at you, he's been talking with you, and now you're all dressed up to go… to the library. I'm just saying."

Hermione grinned despite herself, and rolled her eyes. "So, what? What are you 'just saying'?"

Ginny continued to grin and held her peace, and dinner continued on in a much less interesting fashion once Ron and Harry made their separate ways in.

"Have fun at the library, Hermione," Ginny muttered as Hermione put her napkin on the table.

"You know me," Hermione responded as she slung her bag over her shoulder. "I love to learn."

An hour had passed with only a few glances and a few smiles stolen from the silence of the room. Viktor had gotten up several times to go into the stacks, but Hermione hadn't dared to follow him. Besides the fact that he was studying and she didn't want to disturb him, it felt a little too much like being a member of his fan club. No, she would just stay at her table and study and that would be fine.

_But then he'd never get to appreciate what you're wearing._

Hermione sighed and chewed on her bottom lip. It was true. If she never got up, how would he know how cute she looked this evening? (For Ginny had declared that she did in fact look 'cute' – not a term Hermione would apply to herself under normal circumstances.) He'd never have the chance to see, and then all of her fretting would be for naught. Horrified at that thought, and remembering what her mother had always said about stretching every once in a while, Hermione got up and wandered into Muggle Studies again.

Once in the stacks she clasped her hand over her head and stretched her arms up, holding them there for a moment. She grimaced as her shirt rode even farther up, and the first thing she did when she finished was to pull her shirt back down so it at least touched the waistband of her jeans in some places. Wondering if he would come, and wondering what sort of stretches would be good to do if he didn't, she turned around – whereupon she was so startled that she let out a tiny yelp and started backwards.

Viktor Krum had been standing right behind her.

"Sorry," he murmured, his features soft and penitent.

Hermione swallowed thickly and reminded herself that breathing was necessary. They were standing so close – inches apart really – and was it her imagination, or was the boy just radiating heat? She took a step back, and began to babble.

"I was just stretching. You know. Get up and stretch because it's good for you. Not good to sit for too long, hunched over a book, that's what my mother always says. Of course, I rarely listen to her when she says it, but there you go."

She stopped for air, and feeling desperate just decided to pause in general. All of her nervous energy was henceforth transferred to her fingers, which began to twist in her shirt hem. And Viktor was smiling at her again. Maybe really _at_ her this time, and Hermione began to panic. Time to change the subject.

"So, how are you? I mean, are you all right? You got hit with a nasty curse this afternoon. You're okay, though, right? No permanent damage. I mean, you look good. I mean, well. You look well. You know, alright."

"Yes," he said, looking away and beginning to blush slightly. "I am okay." It looked like he wanted to say more, but decided against it.

"Vere you go, in afternoon?" he asked, instead.

"Oh, Ron and Ginny and I were going down to meet Hagrid." _And be told about the dragons you are going to face_, she thought. "We just go there sometimes to hang out. You know, talk. Have tea." _Get introduced to dangerous and deadly creatures. _"That sort of thing."

"You are friends vit this Hagrid?"

Hermione nodded. "He knew Harry from, um, from before. What were you and the other students doing? I mean, this afternoon?"

"That vos class for teaching combat. Ve are dueling vit vands, and fighting vit… body."

"But you got clobbered."

Viktor put a hand to the back of his neck and looked down, and Hermione could see what might have been a tiny rueful smile.

"Normally," he started, looking back up at her from underneath his eyelashes. "Normally I am good vhen ve are dueling. Today," he said, looking around at the books before looking back and meeting her gaze, "I vos… I do not know vord for it."

"Distracted?" Hermione offered up in a very small voice.

"Yes. Normally I am good vhen ve are dueling, but today I vos distracted."

"What were you distracted by?" Hermione asked, seemingly unable to look away from him.

"Pretty girl on vay to have tea vit friend."

Hermione found herself gasping slightly, a sort of reverse sigh, before she could get out a single, "Oh." Her fingers were still doing their intricate tango with the hem of her shirt. She watched as Viktor's eyes dipped down. Her hand stilled the moment his fingertips grazed the length of her thumb.

"You vill be hurting shirt, like that." His fingertips slid down into her palm as his knuckles brushed past her stomach and made her suck in her breath. Viktor gently pulled her hand away and brought it to his lips. He held it there for a moment as they looked at each other. Without breaking their gaze, he rubbed her knuckles gently back and forth across his lips before he gave one a tiny kiss.

Her hands now free, but her left hand burning, she smiled, emboldened by his caress. "I'm sorry I was a distraction for you."

"I cannot think of better distraction. But maybe you vant be more? Maybe you vant be friend?"

Her heart was thundering, and it wasn't friends she was thinking of, but being friends was a lovely place to begin, and end if need be.

"I do want to be your friend, Viktor. So how's your research coming?"

Viktor smiled, and leaned back on the table behind him as he described his project, gesturing with his hands when words failed him.


	5. Cherry or Chocolate?

**Title**: Cherry or Chocolate?  
**Author**: Sare Liz  
**Claim**: Viktor/Hermione  
**Prompt**: (05) Chocolate  
**Series**: The Amazing Bouncing Ferret  
**Disclaimer**: Characters to JKR. Prompt to Potterverse 100.  
**Notes**: Dedicated to czarownicaasia, for her birthday. Happy Birthday!

--

The Bulgarian language; it was the reason that Viktor and Vlad had first become friends at Durmstrang, back in the first week of their schooling together. Vlad, from southern Romania, had a passing acquaintance with Viktor's language, and had greeted him in Bulgarian that first time. Even now, when they wanted a bit of privacy in the midst of a crowd, Vlad would start in with his broken Bulgarian and Viktor would squash the urge to respond in a torrent of words, a torrent born out of the occasional desperation to simply speak eloquently a language that was his own.

"_Which girl, the one you like?" _Vlad murmured in Bulgarian. _"Hair like cherry or hair like chocolate?"_

It was then that Viktor realized that his subtle glances to the doorway had turned into an overt stare once he caught sight of her walking in with a friend. Still, he ignored Vlad.

She was looking particularly lovely this evening. Her hair was down now, a cascade of curls which meant that partway through studying in the library tonight, it would end up in a beautiful mess at the back of her head, secured by a quill.

Like the rest of her school, she was required to wear her uniform only at certain times, and dinner was not one of them. Viktor was particularly glad about this tonight, as with every step she took her pale stomach was in turn revealed and hidden as her shirt shifted. This, he mused, would not happen in her uniform. The cloak, for one thing, obscured quite a lot. That gray sweater, as well, lent one to believe that only the seventh year girls had breasts at all. Viktor was happy to finally have clear confirmation that the sweater was, in fact, a big liar.

"_Cherry or chocolate, Viktor. Easy question."_

Viktor rolled his eyes. _"Must you use those descriptors? Couldn't you say red or brown? It's not like I'm considering the dessert option, Vlad. They're girls, not ice cream."_

"I never remember colors. Food is more interesting. You change subject. Easy question: cherry or chocolate."

"The one with the light brown, curly hair. I'd tell you her name if only I could pronounce it properly. Later, on the ship and away from these vultures, I'll mangle it for you, if you're good."

"_Nice body. Young?"_

"Same year as their other champion, the famous one," he said, deciding the better part of valor was to not mention any names at all in front of their dinner companions. "They're friends, apparently. Good friends."

"_Good friend, is boy? Is more than… friend?"_

Viktor shrugged. _"I sincerely hope not. That would ruin all of my very careful flirting, wouldn't it?"_

"_Was nothing careful, yesterday. Stupid, yesterday. I understand, and I see now Chocolate is _very_ pretty girl, but still stupid."_

The fact that Viktor could fail to register the critical commentary that Vlad provided was proof that the young Bulgarian was ever-so slightly besotted. Instead, Viktor grinned. _"She is, isn't she? She's just adorable. And bright? You should see the books she reads. And we've been talking about my Animagus training. And sometimes she's just incredibly bold, and other times she's so shy I don't know what to do."_

"_Kiss her?"_

Viktor glared at him. _"Are you insinuating that when she is shy and I don't know what to do, I should just kiss her, or are you asking if we have yet kissed?"_

"_If you kissed yet. So?"_

"Of course not. We are different in this respect, my friend. I do not seek to have so many conquests as you. In fact, I'm not sure that what I want is anything like a conquest. It's an ugly word for an act of love, really. This isn't war."

Vlad wiggled his eyebrows, and replied in a slow, deliberate sing-song voice. "_But she has nice body…"_

Viktor was torn between outrage at the insinuation that he would or should try to seduce a fourteen year old, and agreement that she did in fact have a lovely body, which seemed to be more evident today than before. Maybe he was only just really beginning to pay attention.

No, that couldn't be it. If he hadn't been paying perfect attention before, he'd eat his hat.

Viktor glanced over at Vlad, only to have the Romanian leer at him playfully. His ire came flooding back. Viktor stabbed a piece of potato and ate it with a savagery that perfectly expressed his current temper. He stabbed at a piece of roast beef in the same fashion. In fact, he was half way through his plate of food before Vlad spoke again.

"_Viktor. I am sorry. I don't mean for you be bedding her tonight. I mean only, when you marry, you have beautiful children. And you be very lucky man._"

Viktor sighed and rolled his eyes. That Vlad apologized was a minor miracle; that he was practicing his diplomacy skills was a major one. Viktor couldn't really expect his friend to be apologetic, diplomatic, and realistic at the same time. In the end, he just grunted, but he was far kinder to his dinner after that.

--

...the series continues...


	6. Fascinating Goblins

**Title**: Fascinating Goblins  
**Author**: Sare Liz  
**Claim**: Viktor/Hermione  
**Prompt**: (06) Other Schools  
**Series**: The Amazing Bouncing Ferret  
**Disclaimer**: Characters to JKR. Prompt to Potterverse 100.  
**Notes**: Dedicated to inell, for her birthday. Happy Birthday!

--

They weren't making eyes at each other. Such activities were juvenile and to be avoided, in Hermione's estimation. The two of them just happened to look up from their work, occasionally, and just as occasionally their eyes happened to meet. When that happened, of course they smiled, and such contact was brief, as one didn't wish to stare. And so if the eyes tended to dart around a bit before glancing over again, and before returning once more to their academics, who could fault them? Who, indeed.

Fault or no, apparently a pretty, dark-haired Beauxbatons girl wasn't reading the subtext of the situation correctly, or else she plainly didn't care. Hermione's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly when the Gryffindor noticed the unaccountable behavior exhibited by the girl from that _other _school. The French girl had sat down directly in front of Viktor at his table. She brought with her neither book nor parchment and quill, but proceeded to carry on a quiet one-sided conversation with the taciturn Bulgarian.

Hermione's eyes narrowed on the girl's back, watching as the other girl leaned ever forward over the table toward him, now gesturing something. Swallowing thickly, the young British girl returned to her work. It was none of her business, anyway, who Viktor spoke to. Hermione applied herself doubly to her History of Magic essay. It was fascinating, after all, just how often the Goblins tended to rebel. One had to wonder what kept them so calm at present. It couldn't just be all that gold at Gringotts. They couldn't be that greedy, could they?

She was terribly engrossed in her very fascinating essay, and was pointedly ignoring the fact that the girl was still sitting with Viktor, still flirting outrageously with him, and still annoyingly, alluringly _French_ (in that way that only the Gallic can truly pull off), when the most interesting thing happened – not that she cared, of course. Viktor muttered a terse something to the Beauxbatons girl and left the table. He left _his_ table, and came to Hermione's, sitting down in front of her.

Of course, he could do whatever he wanted, couldn't he? He could flirt with the French girls if he liked. He could have a fan club that followed him around the castle grounds. He could sit at whatever library table he wanted to sit at. Hermione didn't care, and she would just keep writing, because after all, the Goblin Rebellion of 1882 was just bloody fascinating. It was riveting, really.

Even as single-mindedly academic as she was purportedly being, Hermione couldn't help but notice – notice officially, honestly, seriously – when Viktor got up again, only to kneel down next to her. She straightened up from her hunched over position and fiddled with her quill, avoiding his gaze as eagerly as she had sought it earlier. He was quiet, waiting perhaps, but Hermione's eyes were trained hard and fast on her own fingers, still fidgeting.

And then his hand lay gently over hers, his forearm draped over her papers and books. Warmth radiated from him, his hand softer and smoother than she would have expected. "Hermione," he called to her in a whisper, the pronunciation of her name odd and melodic.

When she finally met his eyes, she was completely unable to look away. There was some sort of wonderful, inexplicable promise in his eyes, and she couldn't figure out what it was, but it felt like contentment.

"Are you upset?" His voice was impossibly soft.

Upset? Had she been upset? She couldn't quite recall, and for just the briefest moment, she didn't want to do any sort of self-reflection at all. Just now, she wanted to continue staring at Viktor, thanks. She didn't need to do it for too much longer, just a few days would do.

"I did not invite her to be sitting vit me."

Her? Who was 'her', Hermione mused. _That Beauxbatons bitch_, she thought, and it came back with a rush. Without thinking further, her eyes darted away from Viktor and she leveled a glare at the foreign student two tables away.

Said student was watching the couple, and when Hermione came so violently out of her reverie, the other rolled her eyes, gathered her dignity and left the library altogether.

"You hear vot she say to me?"

"No," Hermione replied with no small amount of passion. "And I don't need to know, either."

"But I vant to tell." His thumb was moving gently back and forth along her hand. He waited to say more until she visibly gave in. "She ask me go to Yule Ball vit her."

Once again, Hermione couldn't look away, but it was a different sort of feeling, this time. There was a knot in her chest, and butterflies in her stomach. "What did you say," she asked, swallowing harshly.

Viktor cocked his head to the side, and smiled a teeny, tiny smile. "_No, thank you," _he replied in a sing-song voice that was undoubtedly kinder and gentler than the one that had been used at the time. Hermione's ire melted away and she laughed softly. The air between them was so much clearer now, and Hermione hadn't even realized how fraught with tension the situation was until it was over.

In the comfortable silence, Hermione gazed down at Viktor. He wasn't looking at her anymore. She stared at the top of his head and wondered if he didn't get cold in those Northern winters with only a tiny layer of stubble to call hair. It seemed impractical, really, and by all accounts Durmstrang seemed to be a practical place.

Viktor's hand was still resting on top of hers, and his thumb rubbed back and forth, breaking into her thoughts about the practicality of Durmstrang requirements, and the small movement was the herald to something larger. Viktor raised his head and met her gaze.

"Hermione," he started softly, "vill you go to Yule Ball vit me?"

Her heart was flip-flopping. Was she breathing? She probably ought to breathe. In, out, breathing is good. Answer. She also needed to answer him. Breathing, and answering, both were necessary. Hermione smiled and looked away. "I'd love to, Viktor." Breathing without shaking would be even better.

His voice was still quiet, and his body seemed exceedingly still. "Is that nice vay of saying no," he paused, and when she suddenly turned back to him, herself somewhat alarmed, he continued, "…Or yes?"

"Yes," she replied immediately and emphatically. "It means yes. Yes, I'll go with you. _Yes._"

"Okay," Viktor said, grinning. After a moment, he sobered slightly. "So, Harry Potter not ask you? I thought that maybe…" he trailed off, looking questioningly up at her.

Hermione laughed a little. "Of course I would have gone with him if he'd asked me, but just as friends. I mean, we couldn't possibly have gone as anything else – I mean, I don't think he's noticed I'm a girl."

Viktor took one of her hands in his and held it before him, gently caressing her fingers. "I notice you are girl." Still looking at her, he raised her hand a bit and pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles. The spot tingled as he lowered her hand, but kept it between his own. "And I do not ask you so ve go as friends. You understand vot I say?"

Hermione was trying to keep from actually shaking. It was just that sort of day.

"I think so," she said evenly, to her own surprise. "You mean that you don't want to go just as friends, but rather as a couple. As people who have started," and here Hermione hesitated, partially because she just couldn't get the word out. "Dating," she finally said.

"Yes. For you, is okay?"

He had such pretty eyes. She just stared into his pretty, dark eyes and smiled, and slowly nodded her head. He asked if it was alright for him to study with her, at this table, and when he was off gathering his books to move them, Hermione took a very deep breath. Part of her wanted to shriek in happiness. An intelligent, cute, interesting boy had asked her to the Yule Ball! And now they were dating! She was dating _Viktor! _

She couldn't wait to tell Ginny.

--


	7. Several Drabbles

**General Author's Note: **Please note that there are several drabbles in this chapter...

**Title**: Raiding the Stash  
**Author**: Sare Liz  
**Prompt**: #13, Gifts  
**Notes**: This takes place two weeks before the Yule Ball, GoF. Hermione's POV.

--

She had two weeks until Christmas and the Yule Ball, and there needed to be some sort of gift in his future. It was obvious. She needed to knit him something, but what? Socks – socks would be perfect, and she had some good sock wool in her stash, but she had no idea how big his feet were. This would take some subtle investigating. It would probably require two or three times the wool needed to make a house elf a pair of socks (not that a pair was strictly required, according to Dobby). Maybe red – for Durmstrang, for Bulgaria.

--

**Title**: A November Sidebar  
**Prompt**: #14, Mentors  
**Notes**: 100 word drabble. This takes place in November, before Ron figures out who Hermione is going to the Ball with. Hermione's POV.

--

"But he's… a _Durmstrang_. I mean, look at his Headmaster."

"Karkaroff's no Dumbledore, in more ways than one. I mean, yes, he's Viktor's Headmaster, and the curriculum is set in a certain way that favors a more rigorous understanding of the Dark Arts, but it's not like Karkaroff is his mentor, or anything. It's not like how it is with Dumbledore and a certain fourth year I won't mention."

"I don't doubt you, Hermione, and if you say it's alright, I'll believe you. I just… I want to make sure it's okay. That _he's_ okay."

"It really is okay, Harry."

--

**Title**: Day One, Fifth Year: Double Potions  
**Prompt**: #15, Potions  
**Notes**: 100 word drabble. This takes place on the first day of Potions, OofP, Hermione's POV.

--

Ron's sharp nudge brought her out of her daydream of strong arms and a sweet Eastern accent. It was a happy place, where she had been; a place of fearless flying, long drawn-out kisses, crisp mountain air and the bright sun of summer. Though she thought highly of this class, the Hogwarts dungeon had nothing on the mountains south of Vratsa.

Her professor skulked by, staring at her as he lectured, trying to find fault, but all she could do was stare at his long, hooked nose thinking that it looked wrong somehow, as it hadn't been broken several times.

--

**Title**: Crystal Stalin  
**Prompt**: #37, Chores  
**Notes**: 100 word drabble. This takes place before the first task, GoF. Viktor's POV.

--

The figurine shattered, and Viktor swore. Bending down and swiping it up in his hands, he wordlessly repaired it and equally as wordlessly berated himself for daydreaming about a brown-haired British girl instead of paying attention to the cleaning of Karkaroff's stateroom, part of his weekly round of duties. She was terribly intriguing, though. Pretty, wildly intelligent, passionate, and a wonderful partner for conversation, he wondered if she thought of him at all, wondered if she noticed how often he looked at her, trying to get her attention. Maybe he needed to try a –

_Damn_.

He'd broken the figurine again.

--

**Title**: To Sleep, Perchance To Dream  
**Prompt**: #38, Sleep  
**Notes**: 100 word drabble. This takes place in January, GoF. Viktor's POV.

--

He woke with a jerk sighing to feel the slick wetness, proof of just how satisfying his dream had been. A half-asleep _Evanesco _made him clean enough.

He relaxed back onto his pillow, grinning to think of the images so recently playing in his mind. Her shirt had been unbuttoned and her school skirt hiked up around her hips. Oddly, they were underneath the Quidditch pitch in Vratsa and she'd been whispering the loveliest things into his ear, nibbling as she went. Toward the end she'd been chanting his name, as those who loved him said it: _Vitya, Vitya, Vitya._

--

**Title**: Hands Safely In Pockets  
**Prompt**: #39, Hands  
**Notes**: 100 word drabble. This takes place early December, GoF. Viktor's POV.

--

He walked across the grounds, covertly watching some couples walk to the town together. When they weren't being yelled at for it, some of them would have a hand in the back pocket of the jeans of their partner, essentially grabbing their arse.

Could he do that?

No, Karkaroff would kill him. And if Karkaroff didn't, and his mother heard of it, she would kill him. And if neither of them killed him, there was always the possibility that Hermione herself might hex his hand off, or something he'd miss even more.

Viktor wondered how one tactfully made that request.

--


	8. Several More Drabbles

**Overall Note:** Again, a series of drabbles.

**Title**: Thanatos  
**Notes**: This is for potterverse100, prompt #18 – Death. Hermione's POV

--

A last ditch effort found her knocking on the dark wood of his door. Silence. No one in the hallway – her guide had left for privacy's sake. Another knock. A short, muffled stream of listless words – whether Bulgarian or Russian, she couldn't be sure.

"Viktor, let me in."

The ship creaked, the door opened, and he looked terrible. He hadn't shaved today and his eyes were red-rimmed. When the door closed behind them, she started in.

"Viktor, it wasn't your fault."

He wasn't listening, though. She could tell. So she reached out for him instead and held him in silence.

--

**Title**: Persephone  
**Notes**: This is for potterverse100, prompt #19 – Birth. Hermione's POV

--

"I love spring," she said, turning slightly on the broom. They weren't going that fast, skimming the trees with their newly sprouted green leaves.

"Vy?" he asked, nuzzling her ear and planting tender kisses down the column of her neck.

"It's like, winter is death, or dormancy, and then comes spring – suddenly there's green everywhere and you can smell life in the air, hear it, too. The days are longer and warmer… I just love it."

Snuggling back into his embrace and his kisses, Hermione determinedly shoved away thoughts of the parting that would occur at the end of spring.

--

**Title**: Hermione's Animagus  
**Notes**: This is for potterverse100, prompt #20 – Animagus. Hermione's POV

--

She looked at him, considering the question for the first time, which was odd after last year. She shrugged.

"And you, would you be a bird, some flying thing?"

His smile was quick and dazzling. If only his fangirls knew he smiled like this they would never have given up so easily.

"Have thought, but no. Vot if I like flying as bird better than flying vit broom? Terrible. Tragic. Very bad." Viktor paused and gave her an assessing stare. "I know good animal for you. Similar disposition ven angry. Very powerful, could protect friends."

"What?"

"Hungarian Horntail."

Viktor ducked.

--

**Title**: Solitude Broken  
**Notes**: This is for potterverse100, prompt #21 – Professors. Viktor's POV

--

So many odd things in this castle. He liked the doors that masqueraded as walls, hidden behind tapestries, though. Down in the dungeon the wall was three feet deep, and so the doorframe – a perfect fit. They were in their own little world, which, as the months had passed, had gotten progressively more interesting.

Viktor was just to the point of inching up her skirt, his hand on the back of her thigh when—.

"I cannot stay!" It was Karkaroff.

"We've discussed this," came the subtle sneer.

Now tense in a different way, Viktor and Hermione stilled and listened.

--

**Title**: Year Seven: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin  
**Notes**: This is for potterverse100, prompt #22 – House pride. Viktor's POV

--

He gripped her hand and ignored the stares, the whisperings.

"And which house would you have been sorted into, hm?"

She was his guide through the morass of people to the somewhat less crowded upper stands. The game hadn't begun yet, and all of the rabid first-years in the front row had turned around to ogle. She seemed to ignore it all. He gave the younger ones a small smile and inclined his head just so before pointedly turning his attention to the reason for his presence.

"Probably Hufflepuff."

Hermione laughed, and it was good to hear her laugh again.

--

**Title**: The Gregoriovich Creation  
**Notes**: This is for potterverse100, prompt #23 – Wands. Viktor's POV

--

She'd been covertly staring for several months now. Finally, he let her stroke it.

"It's so hard, and yet soft." She giggled then, in the most entrancing way. "And, Viktor, it's crooked."

He snorted indignantly and covered her hand with his momentarily, as she kept stroking the shaft.

"Is not crooked. Is just not straight. Not all vizards vands are straight Is like racing broom. Handle not straight, like normal broom. Is," he paused and smirked at her, "crooked, to be better at vot it does."

"You're making it all very clear now, Mr. Krum," she murmured, so close now.

--


End file.
